


One More for the Road

by Aetherschreiber



Category: NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: Angst, Don't Judge Me, Episode: s06e06 Matthew 5:9, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Get your Kleenex, Spoilers, fanfic is how I deal all right!?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherschreiber/pseuds/Aetherschreiber
Summary: Dwayne's a wreck after the funeral.  But his right hand isn't going to let him wallow TOO much...
Relationships: Christopher LaSalle & Dwayne "King" Pride
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	One More for the Road

**Author's Note:**

> I am SOBBING! I can't believe they did that! And since I already spent one day periodically weeping in my cube at work, I just needed to deal and this is what came of it.
> 
> MASSIVE spoilers ahead for season 6 episode 6, "Matthew 5:9," so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> Oh, and I went through six hankies writing this. Somehow I doubt it's out of my system entirely, but progress...
> 
> I'd say to enjoy, but, uh... Yeah...

It was a party at the Tru Tone. And that was exactly what Christopher would have wanted. Pride had seen to that. Hell, all of New Orleans had seen to that. So the island of dour silence in the middle of the bar, comprised of what remained of Dwayne's chosen family, was decidedly out of place. Even saying that, no one said anything to any of them, giving them space. Dwayne looked up at each of them in turn; Loretta, Sebastian, Patton, Tammy, Hannah, each nursing a drink and stewing in their own grief.

Thank God for Patton "Triple P" Plame, though. His out of the blue chuckle at one of Christopher's recent antics finally broke the group out of their mood. They all started trading stories after that and then it was a party again, as if Chris had just walked into the room and given them crap for being party poopers before buying a round.

Hours passed. Midnight came and went. The music died and the crowd slowly thinned. The team were the last to leave, of course, reluctant to say their final goodbye, wanting to hold on to this last moment with their friend as long as possible. Loretta stayed longest of all, wordlessly helping Dwayne tidy up the bar after the party.

Dwayne knew what she was really doing, of course. She was waiting until he told her that he would be okay on his own. God bless Loretta Wade. She had been his quiet guardian angel for decades. And right now, Dwayne had to admit to himself, he wanted her there with him more than anything.

Well, more than _almost_ anything.

But, he could see how exhausted she was. It was pushing 3 AM. So finally, Dwayne decided that he needed to send her home. Even guardian angels needed their rest. And it wasn't fair to keep her at the Tru Tone simply for his own comfort.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself tonight?" Loretta asked him, bundling her sweater over an arm and pausing before making her way to the door. "Because I could..."

"No, no, Loretta, you've done plenty for me tonight," he insisted, ushering her toward the entry way, "you look more pooped than I am. G'won home and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you're sure," she said, resting a hand on the side of his face for a moment.

"I'm sure," Dwayne replied, grabbing on to her hand with both of his and giving it a firm squeeze. She then gathered him into a tight hug and he could tell from the mild shaking that she was holding back tears. The rest of the team had been in similar states as they departed.

And then she left and he closed and locked the door to the Tru Tone after her and he was alone. Slowly, he went from table to table blowing out the last dregs of candles that were burning around the room. Then came the stage lights and the house lights, leaving only the glow of the bar. It was so quiet, now; truly the end of the party.

Idly, he stuck a hand into his left pants pocket and his fingers brushed against the smooth metal of the challenge coin he had been carrying with him all day. As he pulled it out and contemplated it, he figured it might never be out of his reach ever again.

Feeling a sob he could no longer hold back, Dwayne let his legs buckle under him and deposit him onto one of the bar stools, clutching the challenge coin in a tight fist. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, with no one to see him and tears falling from his eyes to land in a growing puddle on the bar. Frankly he didn't care. He had held it together as long as he could, for everyone who was hurting. But Dwayne Pride had reached his limit at last. This time was his.

"I never said it," he muttered to himself, bitterly, "damn, but I never said it."

"You didn't have to."

The Alabama drawl bubbled up from his mind, conjuring echoes off the walls of the Tru Tone so vivid, Dwayne was worried for a moment that he was having yet another after-effect of his encounter with LSD. But there was something oddly tangible about the presence that seemed to slot itself onto the bar stool next to him.

"I knew." He felt more than saw the shrug that went with the words. "Besides, I never got around to sayin' it, either."

Dwayne couldn't help but give a chuckle. "Yeah, well, you didn't have to either. Loretta, Cade, Savannah; everyone else else told me for ya'."

A smile a mile wide lit the room a little, eyes crinkling in the corners just as Dwayne remembered; would always remember. "Well, they were always smarter'n the both of us."

"So, Chris, you wanna tell me what I'm supposed to do now?"

"Shit, King," came the reply, "that part's always been your job. You point, I go. And it did wonders for me."

Dwayne gave another short laugh, tears forming in his eyes anew. "You'd have followed me into Hell, you big idiot."

"Damn straight! We already walked through it once, after Katrina. You led me back out then. No reason not to think you'd manage it again."

"But I didn't, did I?" Dwayne protested. "Look where I led you this time."

A sigh drifted across the bar. "Honestly," came the answer, "I'm not convinced you were leadin' this time. An' even if you were, you don't get to do that to yourself."

"Do what?"

"This! The guilt trip! I accepted a long time ago that things might come to this. The day you asked me to be your partner, the moment I said yes, I knew what the risks were. We both did. And there's no where else I'd rather have been, so just stop that, a'ight?"

"Not sure I can do that, Christopher," Dwayne admitted.

"Well, you're jus' gonna have to try real hard. 'Cause otherwise, I'm gonna haunt yer angst-ridden butt."

Dwayne swiped at the wetness in his eyes, giving yet another chuckle. "Haunt away," he said, "at least I'll know who took the missing socks outta my dryer."

A scoff and an amused smirk. "Missin' socks are the least I can do."

"Oh, I just bet."

"I mean it! You won't see it comin' either. There you'll be, wallowing in guilt and then, bam! You'll step on an old Lego brick! And after you're done swearing a blue streak, I expect you to laugh and laugh good. Ya' hear me?"

Try as he might, Dwayne couldn't stop either the tears or the laugh. "You got a deal," he said, "small price to pay to have you stop by for a visit now an' then."

"Any time, King," came the reply, "I have it on pretty good authority that time don't mean a whole lot anymore, so..."

They sat together at the bar for several moments in companionable silence until Christopher's voice filled his ears again.

"Just tell me one thing," he said, "all those years ago, I said I wanted to leave my mark on this city. Did I do it?"

"Yeah," Dwayne breathed out in answer, "yeah, you did, my brother. Hell of a mark. An' I couldn't be prouder."

"Good," came the satisfied response, "do me a favor. Make sure it sticks around for a while."

"Forever, if I got anything to say about it."

"All I need to hear."

Dwayne's smile evaporated and he felt tears coming back yet again. "Still," he said, "I wish I'd have said it. Just once."

"Might as well say it now," was the response, lit with a fond half-smile, "obviously, I can hear ya'. Here, I'll even say it first. I love you, King."

The words caught in Dwayne's throat for a moment, stifled by a sob he was trying desperately to hold back, though he wasn't really sure why. Finally, he was able to pull in enough breath to get them out.

"I love you, son," he whispered, though it sounded louder than any shout he had made in his life, seeming to lift just a little bit of weight from his shoulders, "and I'm gonna miss the Hell outta you."

"Me too," came the reply, "but don't you worry. I won't be too far. An' I got Cade and Savannah. And the fish are bitin'." The presence lifted from the bar stool next to him. "I'll keep a cold one waitin' for ya. Just don't come get it too soon, a'ight?"

"Do my best," Dwayne promised.

"The deal starts tomorrow," Christopher said as his presence moved toward the front door of the Tru Tone and Dwayne could almost see the door open and Christopher's amused smirk shoot to him from around the edge of the door. "So get yer blubberin' out of the the way tonight."

There was a casual toss of a wave that Dwayne answered in kind as Christopher finally disappeared through the entry. The door closed behind him with a silent click.

Dwayne found tears spilling out of his eyes once again. He swiped at them and pulled himself up from the bar stool. Turning, his eyes fell on the piano near the stage. Loosening his tie, he wandered over to it and sat on the bench, lightly resting his hands on the ivories. A moment later and his hands started to tap out a tune. After a few chords, his voice joined in, all on its own.

_It's quarter to three, there's no one in the place except you and me_   
_So, set 'em up, Joe, I got a little story I think you should know_   
_We're drinkin', my friend, to the end of a brief episode_   
_Make it one for my baby and one more for the road..._

* * *

[Frank Sinatra - One More for the Road](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jHr5JbTeRY)


End file.
